The Darkest Arts
by Magestorrow
Summary: In the wizarding world, there are many aspects of magic that are considered dark. But none are as dark as the art of summoning demons. None are more fitting to join a group centered around this art than Alice, a Slytherin girl with an unusually persistent interest in the darkest of magic, and Edward, who has always been by the side of the darkest of wizards. [Order of the Phoenix]
1. Prologue

**A/N – Hello, dearest reader. My name is Mage, and I'm glad that you've chosen to read my newest fanfiction,** ** _The Darkest Arts._** **Please leave a review if you enjoy reading this! I'd love to see what you think.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** ** _Harry Potter_** **or** ** _The_** ** _Bartimaeus Trilogy._** **I only own my interpretation of both and the plot of this fanfiction.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Prologue**

The events leading up to this particular moment were unnervingly familiar to the headmaster; they had only reinforced his belief that this visit was worthy of his time when a simple letter would have sufficed. He heard a soft humming coming from inside the room he stood before. It abruptly stopped when the owner of the orphanage turned the doorknob. This was immediately followed by a frantic rush of activity as the door swung open. Things were slid across the old floorboards, and the springs to the bed creaked.

And then he was looking at a young girl, the same age as the boy had been when they had first met.

She was sitting on the small bed that took up the majority of the room, her legs remaining motionless as they dangled over its side. She turned to look him with dark blue eyes that looked both broken alive. They had the same defiance that _his_ had once had; the girl with the black braid wanted to turn against the world and the rules that it had pushed onto her.

"Alice?" the woman asked. "You've got a visitor. His name is Professor Dumbledore. He's come to tell you – well, I'll let him do it." She promptly turned and left the room, almost as if she was terrified of the small child sitting calmly on the bed.

The door closed behind him. There was an unnatural silence as she watched him.

"How do you do, Alice?" He walked over to the girl and held out his hand. "I am Professor Dumbledore."

The girl paled. With shaking fingers and a surprisingly firm grip, she shook his hand. Then her own hand returned to her side. Her eyes had lost the fires previously burning within them.

Now she just seemed scared.

"Is being a professor being like a doctor? Did Miss Amber get you to come to...to check on me?"

The questions that had once been brought forth as accusations were instead being directed to him as exactly what they sounded like: questions. They held a fear that the boy had lacked.

He shook his head and smiled at the girl. The fear vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared; it had reassured her that things were going to be alright. "No, no. I'm the headmaster at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school – your new school, if you would like to come."

Her eyes briefly lit up, only to die back down minutes later. Her gaze dropped to the lap, and she wrung her hands together. "But I'm not anything special." She glanced down even further, staring at something underneath the bed. "I'm just strange."

Before he could say anything else, she jumped off the bed. She crouched down and peered underneath it. She grabbed something and quickly pulled it out. It was an action figure. Among the dirty and cramped room, the pristine toy looked out of place. The design of it was an older one, but it looked as if it had just come out of the package.

She stood back up and held it out to him.

"It wasn't like that when I found it," she promptly informed him. "One of the boys was kicking the parts of it around; they found it in the dumpster. It was covered in grime and dirt. The paint was falling off. I do that a lot – I fix things."

He grabbed it out of her hands and set it down next to him on the bed. "Hogwarts is a school of magic. It's a school for people with special abilities."

There was a tense silence. She had frozen, her face expressionless, but her eyes flickering back and forth between the toy and the headmaster, as though she was trying to determine if she had correctly understood what he had said.

"Magic?" she repeated in a whisper.

"That's right," said Dumbledore.

She took a quick, deep breath, her eyes wide and her face flushed with excitement. "Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore, for letting me go to your school," she gratefully said. Her movements and words were filled with an energy that had not been there prior to his reply. "I've never gotten to meet other people like me before!"


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N – Hello, dearest reader! I'm glad you've decided to continue reading my fanfiction.** **Please leave a review if you enjoy reading this! I'd love to see what you think.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** ** _Harry Potter_** **or** ** _The_** ** _Bartimaeus Trilogy._** **I only own my interpretation of both and the plot of this fanfiction.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 1**

As she opened her eyes, her hand immediately went for the pocket she usually kept her wand in; the last thing she remembered was being knocked unconscious by a spell that her attackers had cast. When she couldn't find it, she felt around in her pocket in denial of the truth. Her wand was gone. Whoever had taken her had also taken her strongest means of defense.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark cell that she was in. Since she was its only occupant, she assumed that the bed she was sitting on, the small bucket in the corner and the book on the ground were all meant for her.

Which begged an important question. Why on Earth would she be kidnapped? With Voldemort's return, she knew hatred of Muggleborns would begin to grow in the hearts of Purebloods. If it already existed, those wizards and witches would feel more confident about hurting those who weren't deemed pure. Still, that didn't make much sense. Killing her or beating her up would have sufficed.

She glanced out in the corridor. Was it because of her research? They would need her alive for that. She was the only one who could understand her messy scrawl, and she doubted they would understand her train of thought.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears. In response, she continued to stare attentively outside. Words to a spell were muttered, and light flooded her cell. The sudden brightness made her squint; after a few seconds, she once again adjusted to the chance in light level.

The boy standing outside her cell didn't seem quite right. She wasn't sure what it was about him. Maybe it was how his eyes were constantly shifting from one color to the next. Maybe it was the almost animalistic smile he gave her. Maybe it was the fact that he was dressed quite casually, while the person behind him was covered from head to toe in black.

She checked his arm to see if he had the Dark Mark. That would solve one part of this infuriating mystery. But instead of a snake and a skull, she found herself looking at something much different. There was what appeared to be a tattoo of a pentacle in on his arm.

Almost instinctively, she glanced down at her own.

The same design was there.

"Hello, Miss Alice," he said rather cheerfully. Though he sounded to be the same age as a seventh year, his face had a strange, timeless quality that she couldn't really explain. It was also frustratingly familiar. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She glared at him.

"Who are you? And why did you kidnap me?"

The boy carelessly twirled his wand around in his hand. "My name is Edward, but that's not really important." He ceased playing with his wand, his attention once again returning to her. He gestured at his arm. "This is the reason why. You're a very promising student, Miss Alice, who also happens to already be displaying an interest in the Dark Arts."

He said the two words that held so much power with as little care as he had displayed while twirling his wand. It was a terrifying thing to note; he knew the horror of them yet casually tossed them into the conversation.

"So you kidnapped me to join your cult," she surmised.

He laughed. It was a cruel, cold sound that brought back memories that she always tried to suppress. "To put it simply, yes. Though I had nothing to do with your kidnapping, that is the reason for why you're here." He looked her over. "I'm quite sorry about your current living arrangements. Since you are rather new, we can't go taking chances."

The boy seemed almost eager to reveal all of this information to her. She decided to take advantage of this fact. The more information she knew about the current situation, the quicker she could figure a way out of here. "So what exactly does your cult do, Edward?"

He gave her the same animalistic grin from earlier. "We do some of the darkest magic in the entire world, Miss Alice. We both betray God and enslave another race at the same exact time. Don't you want a taste of that power?"

* * *

She silently watched the exchange between the two; she didn't want to draw attention to herself. She needed the focus of the guards to be on Edward's passionate and theatrical speech. While he captured the attention of everyone in the nearby vicinity, she scanned the room for any possible ways to enter besides the door. When her survey of the surroundings was complete, her gaze shifted to the actual cell. Magic was always an option, but he was terrible at actually using his wand and doing so would make their plan even more difficult to pull off.

The girl briefly glanced down at the mark on her arm. Then, in a voice that was surprisingly cold, she concluded, "You summon demons."

Edward faltered. The tone was just as disconcerting to him as it was to her. "We do, Miss Alice," he informed the prisoner. "You'd be surprised by the variety of them."

She got to her feet, quietly walking over to the entrance of the cell. Her blue eyes looked broken and seemed to lack all signs of life; they were the same eyes as those who eagerly controlled others to further their own goals. "So if I go along with your cult's wishes, I'll be able to get a taste of that power?"  
"Yes," Edward said. She knew he was trying to keep his voice from shaking and to prevent his fear from showing in his eyes.

"How soon can I do so?"

She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was struggling to remain calm as he spoke. "As soon as you master the basics," he replied. Then he turned his back to her, and, with a dramatic swish of his trench coat, began to leave the dungeon. "Goodbye, Miss Alice."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N – Hello, dearest reader! I'm glad you've decided to continue reading my fanfiction.** **Please leave a review if you enjoy reading this! I'd love to see what you think.**

 **Disclaimer – I don't own** ** _Harry Potter_** **or** ** _The_** ** _Bartimaeus Trilogy._** **I only own my interpretation of both and the plot of this fanfiction.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 2**

Even after he left with his mysterious companion, Alice found it difficult to shake the feeling that she had seen Edward's face somewhere before. She felt that gaining a glimpse into his life would be the trick to manipulating him. In theory, she could easily get him to help her achieve her goal if she knew who she was dealing with.

She focused on a singular point on the wall across from her after she returned to her poor excuse for a bed. Her mind raced to figure out the reason for the sense of recognition. She was in the library when she had first seen his face. Was he a student? She couldn't recall his house if he was, so that must have meant that he was something else.

Another detail surfaced. She was pouring over newspapers, studying their contents and absorbing the knowledge they offered her. A class photo had slipped out; he had been in it, grinning as he threw his arm around a very unhappy Severus Snape. And around them were a gang of Slytherins that would leave Hogwarts and join the Death Eaters, despite their claims that they were only controlled by Voldemort.

But there was more to it than that. She had seen his face peering out of photos several more times as she conducted her research – she was trying to learn more about dark wizards, since Binns was a rubbish teacher who only focused on goblins and their wars. He had been shown among the prodigy Tom Marvolo Riddle's group of elite students, giving the camera the same grin. And he had been there with Grindelwald, too, years before.

He was the same age in all of those photos; how was that possible? He should have been far older. Even Professor Dumbledore, who was alive despite his old age, looked it. Edward looked as if he could have been lounging in the Slytherin common room.

She was dealing with someone both powerful and incredibly evil; she was certain of that much. Edward gravitated towards groups of evil individuals. Though unsurprised by this realization, she knew that it was still important. It reinforced her belief that Edward was a terrifying individual.

This wasn't a game. This was a reality that she would have to somehow face. She would have to trick him into believing that she was a loyal member of his nameless cult.

She looked away from the wall and stared dismally at the floor. She couldn't do this. Edward was absolutely terrifying, and she knew she would be dead if she angered him.

* * *

"I can't do this!" he promptly informed her, throwing himself onto the bed and burying his face into his pillow. "Alice is absolutely terrifying, and she won't hesitate to kill me if I end up getting her mad!"

The pillow was a convenient way to hide the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. Crying was a stupid thing to do. It never helped him, only reinforcing the belief that he was going to be discovered. It happened every single time. Voldemort, Grindelwald and that group of Death Eaters had all been like Alice.

A second later, the pillow was roughly jerked out of his hands. "Edward, you're crying over a kid who was kidnapped. She's not some evil mastermind. Beside, you just met her."

He frantically wiped the tears away, weakly protesting, "I'm not crying."

She rested her arms on her hips and gave him a look of disbelief. "You're definitely crying."

"Am not." He sniffled; she was right, though he was trying his hardest to deny her accusation. Then he removed his hands from his face. He grew quiet and still, staring up at the ceiling and the dim, flickering light above him. "Tom was only _seven_ when I met him, Arus, and I knew that he was going to turn out bad. Grindelwald was only _five._ Figuring out things like that is what I'm good at. Alice is going to turn out the same as them."

The springs of the bed creaked as she sat down on the end of it. Clutching the pillow close to her chest, she laid back and turned to face him. "You thought Dumbledore was going to turn out bad because of his greater good crap, right?"

"...Yeah."

Her dark brown eyes met his. "Now he's an amazing headmaster, and he led the Order of Phoenix during one of the wizarding world's darkest hours. So wouldn't you say he turned out alright?"

He reluctantly nodded. "But that's only because he lost his sister."

"You can change people, Edward," she said, reaching out to him and tightly grabbing onto his hand. "Don't you want to help her instead of simply standing by?"


End file.
